


Why should I bother?

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Child Abuse, M/M, Superfamily, graphic description of child abuse, sorry I suck at tagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:06:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1205500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Parker had been in the system for ten long years, he was broken and had given up on everything.  Could a star spangled man in spandex and a guy who made tin cans with guns for a living help him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for possible trigger.  
> Comments and kudos are much appreciated :)

Peter Parker had given up on finding a home by the age of twelve.  He’d been in the system for eight years at that point and had experienced his fair share of abuse as a result.  No one wanted to keep a child smarter than they were, he’d learned that the hard way, and although he tried to keep his knowledge a secret, his genius couldn’t be contained.  So when he was called down to the head social worker’s strictly-business-no-Peter-you-cannot-be-in-here-office, he wasn’t holding his breath.

“Good afternoon Peter,” Rob said.  “How’re things?”

“Alright I s’pose, any particular reason I’m here?”

“Yes, I know you’re sceptical about new families, but two close friends of mine are looking to adopt and-.”

“No.”

“Peter, they’re sitting in the waiting room, I want you to talk to them.  Do you know how difficult it is to get a fifteen year old a home?  I don’t want to scare you Pete, but you’re a smart kid.  You can’t stay here next year and that’s going to mess with your studies majorly.  Can you give these guys a chance?  I swear they won’t hurt you.”

Rob was a good guy, he’d rescued Peter from his worst and most recent foster parents, and he’d been found half naked and beaten, handcuffed to a radiator.  His wrists were still mutilated and he still wore scars caused by _them._   If Rob wanted him to give his friends a chance, he’d do it.

“Okay.”

Rob smiled and called them in, two men walked in.  Peter’s jaw dropped, Rob was friends with Tony freaking Stark.  Tony Stark was interested in adopting him. Tony.  Stark.  Avenger, billionaire, genius.  Beside him was Captain America minus the uniform.  He was a big man and pretty intimidating, Rob nodded at him to stand up and greet them but looking at the blond guy, he couldn’t help shake a little.

“Hey Peter, I’m Tony and this is my partner Steve,” he held out his hand to him.

Peter looked bewildered.  He shook the hand cautiously his eyes never leaving Steve. 

“Hello sir.”

 “You don’t need to bother with formalities,” Steve said smiling.  “Let’s have a chat.”

 Quick to obey the huge man’s orders, he returned to his seat.  He stared at his feet, not wanting to make eye contact.  He hated these meetings. He could be studying or drawing or reading or-.

 His trail of thought was cut off by Rob coughing.  “Pete, did you catch any of that?”

He shook his head and paled instantly, who was going to want a kid who couldn’t pay attention for the shortest amount of time.

"Peter…” Rob said sternly.

“Hey, no harm done,” Steve said noticing how uncomfortable Peter looked.  “Tony was rambling anyway; I can’t even stay focused during his tangents.”

“Don’t mind him Peter, Steve isn’t smart enough to keep up,” he winked.  “Speaking of which I hear you’re pretty bright.”

The boy was quick to lower his head and shake it vigorously.  This received an exasperated look from Rob, and a knowing look from Tony.

“Regardless, if you would like, Rob cleared it so you could spend the weekend at our place.”

 _ _Say no, don’t get attached to this man Pete, don’t be an idiot.__   “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: iamntdeadyet.tumblr.com


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short, might put up another chapter in a bit. Thank you all so much for the kudos! I started this as a bit of a laugh but everyone's been so nice.

Peter looked up at the huge building in front of him and held onto his green duffle until his knuckles turned white. He'd seen Stark tower hundreds of times, it wasn't exactly easy to miss, but being led inside made him feel very small.

"Doing alright buddy?" Tony asked, smiling at his employees.

Peter nodded. The place was bigger on the inside; plush, maroon sofas hoarded the waiting room and fancy skylights dangled overhead. It was more like a five star hotel than an office block.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Steve asked an awestruck Peter. "We live upstairs," he continued walking them to the elevator.

Tony took the walk as an opportunity to point out and explain everything on the floor, from the high end technology everyone was using to the colour of the curtains. Every so often he'd catch the boy trying to take everything in, before he'd notice and return to the look of a bored teenager. They entered the lift and Steve punched the level 120 button. Peter felt his face drain.

"H-how long will it take?" he stuttered looking at his shoes.

Steve shot Tony a nervous glance.

"A few minutes Pete, are you okay?" Steve said softly.

"Peter. Clau- claustrophobic."

Tony swore under his breath. "How about you take off your jacket," he suggested, he knew it would make the teen feel less constricted. What next? A distraction. Yeah, that'd be good.

"What's your favourite subject Peter?" Steve asked reading Tony's mind, as the boy pulled of the offending article.

"Sc-science," his breathing evened out. "'M not smart," he managed.

Tony shot a glance at the soldier. "Chemistry, biology or physics?"

"Biology." Deep breath.

The lift door sprung open showcasing the Avengers living area. Steve saw his family, Tony saw what he'd built up from the ground; relationships and a home, Peter saw too many people. He hit the ground with a thud as his world went black.

 

~★~

 

"Is he dead?"

"Shuddup Bird Brain, he's not dead."

"'m only teasing, Tash."

"My dad was right, fuck sake, why did I ever think I could be a father?"

"I'd happily hulk out on your father, Tony."

"Aw thanks Brucie, I'd happily iron man out on yours."

"Shhhh, Thor help me lift him up onto the sofa.  Are you okay?  You're very quiet."

"I simply do not wish to awaken the young one."

"Very thoughtful, Cap when you're done with that wanna cook something for when he comes to?  His blood sugars will be really low."

"I'll just order a pizz- Hey Peter's waking up, give him some space."

 Peter blinked, he was lying on a couch. Tony Stark was sitting across from him using his tablet. Confusion fogged his mind before clearing. That was when the pure embarrassment set in. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iamntdeadyet.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long, but eh better late than never, I've been having a rough week so be nice to me in the comments and leave kudos etc. if you want more

All of the Avengers sat on the couches in what Clint declared as “circle time!” all making sure to give Peter plenty of space.  He sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and his head in his lap, wrapping his arms around himself.  Tony sat on one side of him and Steve on the other.  Nat sat curled up on Clint, who played with her hair absently and Thor and Bruce sat on the third couch.

Clint grabbed a water bottle. “What d’you wanna know ‘bout us Peter?”

Pete looked up.  “Are you Hawkeye?”

“Yup.”

“Are you two…?” he pointed at Natasha whose head was laid out on Clint’s lap.

Everyone burst out laughing except the two who rolled their eyes.  Peter buried his head in his lap again; he could feel his cheeks burning into a deep red colour.

“It’s not you Pete,” Bruce said softly.

“Peter,” he mumbled.

“It’s just we all know Clint and Natasha have been going at it for months now but they deny it every time we bring it up,” Tony said smiling.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Clint said smirking.  Peter tried not to smile.

“C’mon Peter, we’ll show you to your room.”

Dammit, he was hoping Rob had been right about these guys, but all six of them “showing him to his room”, oh god he couldn’t deal with this again.  He stood up from his chair and followed them his hanging head like a devil’s sick of sin, as the poem goes.  They entered a room; it was big, bigger than three, maybe even four, of the bedrooms in the Home.  Maybe the Avengers didn’t want anything from him; maybe they just wanted to raise a kid without all the sticky “raising” parts.  Steve and Tony looked at him expectantly.

“Do you like it?  I know it’s a bit bare but we thought you’d want to put your own stuff up and get new stuff and-,” Tony rambled.

“It’s amazing,” he breathed.  “Is it all for me?”

The room was painted cream and had a large double bed in the middle, pressed against the back wall.  There was a desk in the bottom right hand corner and a massive wardrobe in the upper left.  Apart from that it was pretty barren and looking at how excited the boy had gotten over a room to himself, Tony felt guilty that he hadn’t made it up a bit more _amazing._

“Yep,” Steve smiled.  “We’ll give you a minute to sort your stuff out.”

The team left the room leaving Peter to dwell in it all.  He sat down on the bed, careful not to crinkle the sheets.  What the fuck was going on?  Five hours ago he was getting punched by an older guy in the Home because he refused to do his homework for him, now he was sitting in his own room in the Avengers’ tower given to him by the superhero power couple that was Tony Stark and Steve Rodgers, who didn’t seem to want to harm him.  He’d wait until tonight, things always slipped up at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iamntdeadyet.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC   
> major trigger warning for graphic child abuse, skip if you need to it's just a bit of filler

 

Bruce was the one to find Peter out cold lying curled up in foetus position on the edge of his bed.  He muttered and moaned through his sleep, sometimes pushing away imaginary people, small screams sometimes muffled by his own arm.  The scene was familiar to the scientist.  He took a deep breath before softly tapping the teenager’s arm.

“Peter?  It’s okay, it’s just a dream,” his eyes fluttered open.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, half asleep.  “Was I screaming?”

“Don’t apologise, and no not loudly, want to talk about it?”

He shook his head.  “No, sir.”

“God, my dad used to make me call him that,” Bruce shuddered.  “You don’t have to, okay?  Just Bruce.”

“Thanks Bruce, but I'm okay,” he sighed.

Bruce looked at the boy with an understanding none of the others had.  “Okay.”  No point upsetting him more.  “Steve says breakfast is ready.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something but shut it quickly.  Bruce would think he was stupid, and he was already aware about trusting this man after knowing him for ten hours tops.

“What’s up?” Bruce asked.  Dammit he saw.

“It’s nothing.”  Bruce looked at him sternly, shit he didn't want trouble.  “Well, it’s just, Steve’s really big, and so is that other guy and I know that means nothing but I'm nervous around them.  It’s nothing personal, just bad experiences, are they dangerous?” he rambled.

“They’d never harm you,” Bruce confirmed.

“That’s not what I asked,” he muttered, climbing out of bed.

“Our line of work, well it requires dangerous people, but we’re dangerous for a good cause if you get me, we’d never hurt children.”

Peter looked him square in the eyes and pulled his shirt off and climbed out of bed.  He turned around to hide his bruised abdomen and show his scarred back.  There were hundreds of marks on it, but the most prominent were clearly years old and were raggedy pentagrams.

“Nine years old, my old social worker told me the exact same thing.  My foster parents were cops, and apparently the devil had gotten into me.  It went on for months before anyone found out.”

Bruce went over and hugged the boy.  He flinched at first and then relaxed.  “Nothing will ever happen to you here, Peter, I promise.”

He cried into his t-shirt, he hadn't cried since his last placement, and that had been for very different reasons.  He pulled himself together and mentally slapped himself for pulling down his walls so quickly.

“Breakfast?” he smiled, sniffing up the last of his tears.

The two walked into the communal kitchen where Cap was making pancakes.

“Morning Peter!” he yelled over Clint, Natasha and Thor who were chatting loudly at the table.  “How’d you sleep?”

“Good morning sir –Steve, sorry, I slept fine thank you.”

“Tony should be up in a minute, he’s down in his lab,” he said returning his attention to the pancakes.  “You, him and me are going to do something today together, sound good?  We can get to know each other better that way.”

“Trust me kid,” Clint called out.  “These guys have been planning today for months, it’s gonna be good.”

“You have?”  Peter turned surprised.  “Why?”

“Because we want you to be happy with us, we really want this to work out,” Tony said walking into the room, wiping grease off his face with an old dish cloth.  He pecked Steve on the head before swiping a blueberry out of the batter.  He looked Peter up and down.  “Not a big sleeper either?”

 “I'm- no not really.”

“We’ll bring you to one of the medics to see if you can take something to help out later,” Tony smiled passing him a plate stacked with pancakes.  “Eat up, big day today.”

“I can’t afford medicine,” the boy said questioning Tony’s genius.  He started to practically inhale the food that sat in front of him.

“We wouldn't expect you to pay anyway,” Clint grinned, eating one of Thor’s poptarts while his back was turned.  “That’s not how it’s gonna work around here.”

“Okay.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? An update? That's slightly longer than usual? No. Never.  
> APU trigger warning, don't read if you dont want to   
> Open to suggestions in the comments

Steve showed Peter to the bathroom and left him to his own devices which had been a relief.  After struggling for a few minutes with the shower an English voice overhead, who introduced himself as Jarvis and an AI, told him to turn the nozzle counter clockwise until he was happy with the temperature, and that he’d do his best to retain it.  Peter thanked the ceiling and turned on the water a little hotter than Jarvis could imagine was comfortable.  He washed his hair and body quickly, not sure how long he had permission to be in the shower for, before jumping out and towel drying himself.  He pulled a worn white top on over his head.  It hung loosely of his shoulders, but it was one of his better clothing items.  He didn’t have a second pair of trousers and figured his were clean enough so he pulled his jeans back on.  He caught himself staring himself down in the mirror.  He was paler than could be healthy and he had some fading bruises from problems both within and before the orphanage with Rob littering his face down to his neck, they probably went on much further but he really didn’t want to look.  He steadied himself before going back out.  Bruce was nice, Bruce had been where he was and he trusted Bruce.  If Bruce told him he’d be okay, surely nothing could happen.

He navigated his way back to the living area where most of the noise was coming from.  The couches were cleared out of the way and Clint wearing only his pyjama bottoms and what must have been his top tied around his head was sparring with the Norse God who had been forbidden the use of Mjölnir.  Natasha, who was sitting on one of the couches, waved him over. 

“Tony and Steve are just getting ready, give them five minutes,” she said to him as he sat down awkwardly.  “Ignore them, it’s going to end with Clint hiding in the vents for a few hours because he can’t handle getting hit a couple of times.”

Peter froze.  Memories came down hard and fast and before he knew what was happening or could gain some control over it, he was in the middle of one of his worst panic attacks in weeks.

Tony and Steve came rushing into the room and ran over to Peter, the fight between Thor and Clint died down and Natasha’s face paled as she realised just exactly what she had said.  Steve squatted down so he was at eye level with him.  He placed his hands on the boy’s knees and spoke softly to him. 

“Peter, are you ok?”

“Don’t touch me,” it was barely a whisper, but the onslaught of punches that he threw at the ex-soldier were strong and certainly got his point across.  “Leave me alone!”  He yelled out as Tony managed to pull him off Steve who looked dazed and unsure of how to handle the situation.  Natasha went into the kitchen and came back out with a sedative, and was about to give it to Peter before he flopped on the ground and burst into tears.

“’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m so sorry,” was all he could manage before rolling over onto his knees and pulling his shirt off over his head.  “Do I need to take off my pants as well?” he sobbed. 

There was an audible silence in the room when Peter’s scars were exposed.  Bruce had warned them but no one had been ready for the state his body was in.  Clint sucked in a sharp breath and walked out of the room, followed closely by Natasha who had a worried look plastered across her face.  Tony knelt down and rubbed his back soothingly, avoiding the freshest, too-new, scars while Steve helped him pull his top back on over his head. 

“Shhhh, shhh it’s okay, it’s okay.  No one’s going to hurt you like that ever again,” Steve said softly with an edge of anger in his voice.  “Peter, I need you to look at me.  Are they in prison?”

The sobbing teen looked up slowly, his eyes blood shot and his face puffy and red.  He nodded slowly.  “Rob got them.”

“Rob’s a good guy,” Steve said quietly.  He’d have to ask Rob the details on everything that had happened to the poor kid.  He’d been through so much more than his file could say.

Tony said nothing.  He focused on holding Peter, not too close as to scare him, not so far as to push him out.  He hadn’t been certain about adopting but he was now.  This kid deserved a break. 

“Want to stay home today Peter?” he finally managed, his voice croaked. 

He nodded furiously in response and lifted a hand to wipe his eyes, his breathing steadied slowly.  He looked up to Steve.  “I really am sorry for hitting you.  I just got scared,” he muttered unsure of how else he could explain himself.  “It won’t happen again.”  He meant it too.  No one else, par Rob had reacted to his outbursts like that.  Generally he’d get a swat across the head, a belt across his back and locked in his room for a day or two to “calm down”.  This was different.  It felt safe.

Tony helped him up off the floor and sat him down on one of the couches, while the rest were rearranged back into position.  Thor left the room but came back in almost instantly, arms loaded with blankets and pillows. 

“Have you seen The Lion King Peter?” Tony asked sitting down beside him, grabbing supplies off Thor.  Peter shook his head sheepishly. 

“Cool, I haven’t had a chance to watch it yet either,” Steve said sitting on the other side of him.  “Jar, will you tell Clint and Nat we’re watching a movie if they want to join us?”

“Of course, Captain.”

Bruce and Thor sat down across from them and Nat and Clint walked in, unusually quiet.  Clint sat on the loveseat and Natasha sat between his legs on the floor.  Tony flicked the movie on and yelled at Dum-E to make some popcorn.  There was something strangely domestic about it all that Steve hadn’t experienced before their long since abandoned bonding nights.  Tony, Bruce and Clint were the only ones who had already seen the movie, and it really was something else in Steve’s opinion.  Judging by Peter’s tear-stained face, he was enjoying it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iamntdeadyet.tumblr.com


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter already cos im feeling nice  
> holy shit 2k reads and 100 kudos? I love you guys  
> keep the comments coming they make me so happy ;)

When the film was finished, Clint and Tony’s duets over and the popcorn eaten, it was three in the afternoon. 

“Want to go for a walk Peter?”  Steve asked stretching, climbing out of his nest of blankets.

He rubbed his eyes and nodded.  “Where’s my room?” he mumbled.

“I’ll show you,” Natasha offered and led the way out of the room.  “I wanted to apologise,” she said walking backwards to face him.  “What I said was awful and really insensitive of me.”

“It’s okay, it wasn't just you, it’s all been a bit over whelming to be honest,” Peter shrugged. 

“Understandable, here,” she pointed to a door.  They walked in and Peter sat down to pull his shoes on.  Nat noticed how worn through the cheap material was.  “You need new shoes,” she stated.

“I need new everything, including glasses, can you tie these for me?  I can hardly tell what I'm doing.”

The spy knelt down on one knee and tied them with triple knots; she knew he probably wouldn't want to have to tie them again with Rodgers and Stark.  “This was a test wasn't it?” she didn’t have to look up to feel how uncomfortable Peter was.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I do it all the time too,” she smiled secretively.  It made Peter trust her instantly and it scared him.  Natasha knew how he felt, only Clint had seen that smile and his reaction had been the same.  “Go on, Tony will have my head if I keep you any longer.”

Peter jumped up and ran out of the room.  The spy sighed inwardly, the kid had issues no doubt, and he really needed to see someone about them.  She’d talk to the couple on Monday once he went home.

Peter wandered into the living room, feeling fairly comfortable that he knew his way around this floor now.  He was met by Tony and Steve in big hoodies and sunglasses.  It was chilly enough out but he figured it was more to do with the paparazzi. 

“You not gonna put on a hoodie Peter?” Steve asked smiling.  “We’re going to go down to the park and it’ll probably be a bit cold by the time we head back.”

“I forgot mine,” he mumbled.

“Brucie,” Tony hollered.  “Can Peter steal your sweater?  We’re going out and he forgot one.”

“Yeah no problem,” he stuck his head around the corner leading into the hall.  “It’s on the couch.”

Tony chucked it at Peter before leading the way to the dreaded lift.  Cap pulled a baseball cap down over his flop of blond hair.  “Think you’ll be alright or would you rather the stairs?” he said as if they weren't higher than most of the buildings in New York reached and that to go down the stairs would mean wasting forty minutes.

“I’ll survive.”

They managed to leave the building with no major incident.  The streets were busy enough as the three made their way to the local park, but thanks to the celebrities’ incredible disguises, they reached it unnoticed.  It was nothing big; it had a playground that had been refurbished after Loki attacked courtesy of S.I. and plenty of green areas and benches surrounding a small enough lake in the center which stood home to a family of ducks with an island in the center permanently inhabited by pigeons. 

They sat down in the grass, Peter struggling to roll up the sweatshirt’s sleeves but turning down Steve’s offers of help.  They stayed in comfortable silence before Peter coughed and pointed at the ducks.

“Have either of you read ‘The Catcher in the Rye’?”

“Where do the ducks go?” Steve asked gingerly.

“I think it means where will Holden go?  When he’s done floating around and ready to go home and face his fate, what will he do next?  He needs to go somewhere and so do those ducks, because they won’t survive otherwise, but where?  Where do they go and where will he go and why can no one give him a straight answer to his question and why do they care more about the people who are going to stay where they are like the fish.  How the fish survive is more important than how the ducks survive and that doesn't seem fair to him.  The fish have it easy y’know?  Their futures laid out on a silver platter for them.  Where will the ducks go?  That’s more difficult, isn't it?” he spoke quietly without stopping or looking up.

After a moment of quiet Tony broke out.  “The tower has a pretty great room for ducks if that’s where they want to go.”

“What if the ducks aren't sure yet, do they have time to decide?”

“The ducks can take as long as they need, and we’ll understand where ever the ducks feel is best for them to go is where they need to be,” Steve said gently.

“What if no one wants me where I want to be?” he turned and stared Steve down hard.  “What if my parents dump me and then my aunt and uncle die and every family since then dumps me or beats me or forgets about me?  What then?”

“Then we’d hold on to you tight and never push you further than you were comfortable,” he replied evenly.  “We wouldn’t expect you to see us as your dads, but hopefully we could be there for you like a parent would be.  Whether you chose to move in with us or not, we’ll be there for you.”

Peter sighed and looked back at his shoes.  “I wish I was a fish.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for sticking with this  
> as always my tumblr is iamntdeadyet.tumblr.com


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aayyy oh guys guess who has the worst case of writers block, an art exam tomorrow and eight more exams in a month? THIS GUY. Enjoy this shabby chapter the plots going to pick up in a bit honest to God.

They went back to the tower and everyone was sitting down together at the table with drinks and pizza which was untouched.  Steve made sure that everyone who was around ate together and they always invited Coulson, Jane, Darcy and Pepper but it was unusual if they could all make it.  Tony called it his 40’s manners getting the better of him but everyone liked the regularity of it and Rob had told them that a routine would help put Peter at ease.

“Sit down wherever you like Peter,” Steve said nudging him forward.  He sat in beside Bruce and Tony sat beside him.  “Are the others coming?”

“I’m here.  Pepper’s coming in now but she has to sort something out downstairs so we can start,” a balding man in a suit and tie said as Clint threw himself across the table to get some pizza.  He walked over to Peter with his hand outstretched.  “Phil Coulson, you must be Peter.”

Peter took his hand cautiously and shook it.  “Yessir, it’s nice to meet you.”

“He’s so polite, you could learn a thing or two Tony,” Phil said raising his eyebrows at Tony before sitting down.  Peter’s cheeks shone red and he looked down at his plate.

“Go ahead,” Bruce said picking up some pizza.  “Take as much as you want.”

He leaned forward and took the biggest piece he could find.  He only took one slice but ate it hungrily, scoffing it down in a tiny number of bites.  He then sat back and listened to the conversations going on around him. 

 Pepper walked into the room, dropping her bag on the floor and greeting everyone loudly.  She sat down beside Natasha and went ahead to get some food before she looked up and saw Peter who was currently being convinced by Steve to take some more food.

“Hello what’s your name then?” she smiled.

He was caught off guard and froze for a moment before introducing himself.  Tony took this as an opportunity to put three more slices of pizza on his unsuspecting plate.  He looked down at the food and back at Tony.  “Are you sure it’s alright?”  He nodded wearily; he wasn’t letting this kid go to bed hungry.

Clint took in a deep breath.  “Eat until your full kid,” he sighed.  “Seriously.  The food isn’t going anywhere.”

Peter stared at him steely eyed.  He ate another slice and another and another until he couldn’t physically eat anymore.  “Happy?” he muttered.

Clint matched his stare with a wide, goofy grin.  “As Mama Hudson would’ve said we’ll get some meat on your bones yet,” he winked.  Peter dropped the glare he was holding and looked back at his lap.  He had no idea how to deal with someone like Clint.  He didn’t even know how to describe him.

Natasha stood up and started picking up the plates and empty glasses.  Peter automatically stood up and went to help her.  

“Go sit down Peter, you look exhausted,” she said with an easy smile. 

Peter sat back down, knowing better than to talk back.  Tony and Bruce were having a conversation across him about how to make the arc reactor more effective and Peter was itching to get his hands on one to understand how it worked.  He didn’t say anything but listened intently.  He remembered the last time he’d interrupted a foster parent who he’d thought he could help.  She had been trying to do her taxes in between making dinner and muttering about what a waste of space the brat was.  He was seven and had managed to figure them out quickly enough but when the woman had come back and seen what he had done, he received a sharp slap across the head and had been locked in the shed outside over night for being a know-it-all.  He had avoided maths since.

“What do you think Peter?” Bruce asked. 

“Sorry?” he said snapping out from his train of thought and shuffling his feet a bit.

“Bruce reckons I should change the metals I used to make my reactor so it’ll be lighter, what do you think?”

“Oh, um, it kinda depends doesn’t it?  Will it weaken its stability?” he mumbled trying his best to make it sound off handish and to hide how excited he got when Tony nodded at Bruce as if to say “I told you so” instead of being told to shut up.

“Yes, yes it will,” Tony said raising his eyebrows at Bruce.

“Whatever," Bruce said flinging his arms up in defeat.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check tags for new warnings, not a pretty chapter, however my exams are over so i can produce better chapters  
> actually really proud of this one as horrible as it is, the plot is beginning to pick up :)

Peter shuffled lightly across the bedroom floor.  It was a nice room, big and waiting to be filled with the useless crap most kids owned.  He didn’t really want to leave, but God there was no way he was going back to the orphanage.  He remembered when Rob told him where he was going.  Not even a group home, an orphanage.  What was it the 1950s?  He wasn’t little orphan Annie, no she would’ve been adopted half an hour after she got a bed.  It was bad there, a lot of kids recovering from shit like the stuff he’d dealt with, some not as well as others.  He was young enough, and as Rob was constantly telling him, he had a bright future.  So he fought when necessary, but never as hard as he could, he didn’t want to do that to anyone ever.  His dorm stunk of urine and sweat, his sheets were an off grey colour and there weren’t really any curtains left, they were so moth eaten.  He opened up the page on the computer he was using to hack Jarvis and shut him down for ten minutes before grabbing his bag, pulling on his thin hoodie and running out of his room and down the stairs. 

He put his hands down hard on his knees once he’d found a decent ally.  He let out a deep breath that he hadn’t realised he’d been holding in, there was a certain element of relief being in charge of yourself when it’s all you’ve ever known.  He figured it would be two minutes until they came looking for him, and if he didn’t get enough distance in that time there was no hope for him.  He began running.   He was fast enough, probably could’ve done well if he’d had training or even a decent pair of shoes, but fast enough all the same.  He stopped a few streets down were it was slightly busier than before, full of young people drunk out of their brains and old men in the same predicament.  He ducked into a corner shop and dawdled around for a bit.  He was surprised it was open so late, but they probably got good business from drunks craving a bag of crisps.  He placed a carton of chocolate milk on the counter and pulled a dollar out of the stack he’d borrowed from Steve, while slipping a chocolate bar into his pocket.  If the shopkeeper noticed he said nothing, probably too worried about a kid bruised and thin to stop him.  He was about to leave when a man came inside, a bottle of beer pressed against his lips and slurred

“Heyyy kid, you’re the one Ironman was with,” he smiled.  “C’mere.”  He grabbed Peter’s arm tightly and pulled him outside.  Across the road and into the bathroom in the bar. “Preeettyyy boy.”

The teenager was terrified; he froze up and let the man pull him across the road and into the bar’s bathroom.  A few other forty something year olds had joined, all touching him.  His hair, his chest, his ass, his dick.  He closed his eyes.  He couldn’t fight five men and even though stuff like this had happened to him before, not so many at once.  He was pushed to the ground.  His shirt was lifted off his head and the clear sound of a zipper being pulled down rung by his ear.  He took a deep breath.  One of the men locked the door to the bathroom and trousers fell all around him.  The men didn’t talk, just lowered their trousers.  One bent down, breathing in Peter’s face.

“Open wide preeettyyy boy,” he slurred happily.  “We’re gonna have fuuuuunnn.”  He pinched the boy’s nose and thrust himself in when the door was broken down. 

A man with a red and black mask on and a t-shirt and jeans stood there, silent for a minute.

“I needed to pee, the door was locked, get on your fucking knees,” he whispered glaring at the dumbstruck men.  Peter shook a little, opening his eyes as the man pulled out.  “Not you kid, give me two okay?” He pulled a gun out of his pocket and shot it five times.  Peter began hyperventilating as the blood pooled around his feat.  “Kid, they’re not dead, I’ll deal with them later, and I’m going to take you out of here, Jesus Christ.”  He leaned down and pulled him up.  He didn’t protest as the man pulled him up and over his shoulder.  Didn’t say anything.  He brought him away from the scene they were at and into a 24hr coffee shop.  He placed him down on a couch.

“Deadpool, Wade, Merc with a Mouth, whatever you wanna call me kiddo,” he said sitting down across from him.  “Want a drink?”

Peter nodded.  “Just water,” he managed softly.  He wanted the taste of dick and shame out of his mouth as soon as humanly possible. 

Deadpool asked the woman at the till for water and a black coffee.  He pulled his mask up over his nose, exposing his lips.  “Well then, where are you meant to be?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry sorry sorry sorry but it's here sorry  
> I know it's short but it's the best I could do  
> Sorry

Wade stirred his coffee staring at the pale kid in front of him.For once he was silent. What are you meant to say to a kid who's clearly running from abuse and had nearly been raped? 

"Do you have a phone?" the kid muttered looking up from his glass. "I need to call someone." 

"Hey kid don't feel like you have to go home just cos of what happened back there, we call CPS yeah? We'll get you out, don't sweat it." Yeah that's responsible Wade. 

The kid rolled his eyes. Sassy. "I'm in the system." 

Right, still corrupted as hell then. 

"Well kinda, I need to call these guys they were gonna adopt me but I ran. They weren't hitting me though stop looking at me like I've six heads." 

So the plot thickens. 

"Why'd you run then?" 

"Pressure, and I had to go back to the Home today. It's horrible sir," he choked. "I-I can't go back, please." j 

Wade sighed. "Wade or Deadpool kid not sir, who am I calling?" 

Peter dug in his pocket for the buisness card Tony had given him yesterday. He passed it to Wade. "Thanks." 

"Stark huh? Totally called him and Rogers by the way, look I know him well enough, he won't let you go without a fight." Peter took a long gulp of water. The mercenary dialed the number. 

Stark picked up after two rings. "Not a good time Wilson, make it quick," he sounded tired. 

"Look Tony I have - what's your name kid? - Peter, he's in a bad way I'm going to bring him to the tower we'll be there in five." 

"Oh thank -STEVE I HAVE HIM-, can I talk to him?" 

Wade handed Peterthe mobile and pointed to the door. He paid the waitress and bundled the kid into a cab outside. Looks like you've got yourself a new pet Wilson, he thought as the kid talked to stark Stark and leaned against him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> taadaaa

The cabbie dropped Wade and Peter at the front of Stark Tower.  It was beginning to get light and Peter slumped against the masked man while stifling a yawn.  He was avoiding thinking about what had happened earlier.  After Tony had hung up Wade had tried to talk to him but his brain blocked him out.  He was instead plagued with flashbacks of dark cellars and beaten naked bodies, of the real monster who crept into his room night after night for months on end, of dingy motels and money he’d _earned_ but never seen, of sick perverts cooing over how cute he was while touching him in the most disgusting ways, of the hand cuffs that had mutilated his wrist and the scene that had took place to put them there.  He was tired, he was woozy, his head was spinning and his heart was beating at a million miles an hour.  Suddenly Wade was too close.  He ran forward with a jolt, he had to get into the building, outside was too loud, too many people swarmed him and Wade was way too close. 

_Don’t trust them Peter,_ a voice nagged him from the back of his head.  He could see Wade running behind him but slowly he was blotted out by black splodges, he collapsed in the middle of the entrance hall.

“Nothing to see here,” Wade called out scooping up the child and walking over to the receptionist.  “Can you call Stark down please?” he said softly to the man behind the desk.

“No need,” Tony said walking up and instigating to take Peter, Wade shook his head and held him tighter.  Steve stood behind him and placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder.

“Should we go up?  I’ll tell you all I know once he’s in his own bed,” the mercenary snapped glaring at the billionaire and the captain.  This kid needed to feel safe and frankly they weren’t doing a good enough job.

“Yeah yeah of course,” Stark stuttered.

Once Deadpool had laid Peter down the three men went to the kitchen to start talking. 

“I found him in Macy’s Bar on 32nd in the bathrooms, this guy; he had his dick in his mouth and about four others stood watching.  I don’t know what would’ve happened if I found him later and no, I didn’t kill them, I was more focused on getting the kid out to be honest, I’ll um, I’ll track ‘em down later if you want,” he took a breath.  “He doesn’t want to back to the orphanage, seriously what’s the deal with that is it still the 1600s?   Anyway you need to talk to him and sort this shit out okay?”

Steve was clutching his boyfriend’s tank top.  His face was a look of pure horror, neither spoke.

“But, but he’s just a kid,” Steve said eventually.  “He’s just a kid.”

“I’m calling Rob,” Tony said getting up.  “Will you go into his room?  I don’t want him to wake up alone.”

Steve was out of it, he didn’t respond to Tony as he left to get his phone so Wade nudged him up and forced him outside and into Peter’s room.  Tony was right; when he came to he would need to talk to someone.

Steve sat down on the edge of Peter’s bed.  He ran a hand through his blond hair and used the other to steady himself.  He had lost Peter.  He had lost who he wanted to be his son.  Peter had paid an ultimate price and he had not been there to help him.  Why did he think he could be a dad?  He couldn’t save Bucky and now he couldn’t save Peter.  The teens eyes opened suddenly and he sat up with a jolt.  He looked at Steve like a deer in headlights, mouth hanging open.

“W-where are the others?” he gasped. 

“Hey, it’s okay, they’re out we made them go to work after Wade rang, Tony and him are inside,” Steve said forcing eye contact.  “I think we should go in and talk okay?”

Peter nodded and apologised quietly.  Steve grimaced and patted his back, telling him it was okay, it wasn’t his fault and it changed nothing towards them wanting to adopt him.  He zoned out and stood up, his vision was cloudy but he didn’t know where is glasses were, he assumed he lost them at some point during the night.  Right now that wasn’t important.  He needed to go and apologise to Wade and to Tony and to face whatever punishment he was getting.  He stumbled a bit, but brushed off the blond’s hand when it was stretched out to steady him.  He didn’t need help.  The two entered the kitchen where Deadpool was talking to Tony about a comic series he was reading. 

“Hey Peter, come sit,” Tony said, blatantly ignoring Wade’s rambling. 

Peter nodded and sat down gently.  “I wanna apologise,” he mumbled.

“Son, don’t,” Steve said sitting down beside his husband across from Peter.  “Don’t apologise.”

“Not your son,” he coughed.  “And why shouldn’t I?  It was my fault.  It was the universe telling me I shouldn’t have run right?  I deserved it.”

 “I don’t think the universe is _that_ fucked in the head,” Deadpool mused.

“Wade I think you should go,” Tony replied.  “Steve and I will sort this out okay?  We’ll call you later.”

“No,” Peter looked up desperately.  “Don’t go.”

Wade shared a look with Tony who shrugged.  If Peter needed him there that was that.

 “Peter, Steve and I were talking when you were gone an-,” Tony began, the speech was well rehearsed.

“Am I getting punished now?  Because I’m really sorry, but I’m kinda tired and I don’t know if I can take any hits right now.  I’ll be good I swear.”

“Peter, God no, we’re not going to hit you, what Tony was trying to say was we’d like to speed up the adoption process.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> swagulls.tumblr.com yo


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy

Peter sat at the breakfast bar with one arm wrapped protectively around a bowl of cocopops and was using his other to scoop the cereal into his mouth.  Wade had left and Tony and Steve were in their bedroom with Rob talking about him probably.  He sighed and focused on his breakfast.  He wasn't going back to the orphanage anytime soon according to Steve once he’d told him how bad the bullying was there.  To be honest he wasn't sure why they cared.  It wasn't like they were getting beaten.  It didn’t matter though; he got to stay here and live with the Avengers in the Avengers’ Tower and maybe start up in a new school.  They all seemed to like him when he didn’t dumb himself down, which was new and exciting.  Especially Tony, the man practically lit up when he gave any form of input to his science-y conversations.  Again he wasn't sure why.  He had proven today that he wasn't smart.  He was a stupid, no good, whore who wasn’t going to amount to anything that wasn't fucking for money or begging on the side of a street.  The teenager took a breath and watched the milk the cocopops were swimming in turn brown. 

“Hey Peter,” Rob said sitting down across from him.

Peter raised his elbow a little and pulled his bowl closer to him.  “Hi Rob.”

“So Tony, Steve and I talked.  Are you happy to stay here on a trial basis?”

“Yeah,” he ate some cereal.

“Do you want to come back with me now to get your stuff?” he asked softy.  Pete nodded and stood up cautiously.  “Right run in and tell Steve and Tony you’ll be about half an hour.”

He ran into the room and in on Tony holding Steve in what was clearly a very intimate moment.  He froze in place and coughed awkwardly to alert them of his presence.

“Sorry I should've knocked,” he muttered looking at the ground.

“C’mere Peter,” Tony grinned releasing Steve.  Peter walked over.  “Can I give you a hug?”

Peter considered this and shook his head.  Not yet, he wasn't ready.  Tony shrugged, his shit-eating grin not leaving his face.  “Maybe later.  I’m going to get my stuff with Rob; we’ll be half an hour.”

Steve looked over.  “Be careful and bring your phone,” Steve smiled.  “Bad guys have no respect for personal time, but we’ll try and avoid anything today.”  He winked.  

“Yeah kiddo, we can look into decorating your room and talk about school once you’re back, do you want to see the others today?”

“We don’t have to do my room, you guys don’t need to spend so much on me,” he stared at a spot on the floor.  “I’d rather new glasses.”

“You can have both, Peter money’s not an issue for me,” Tony said placing a hand on his child’s shoulder. 

“I don’t mind if the others are here,” he stuttered.  “I need to go now.”  He turned and exited the room. 

Tony sighed dramatically and placed his chin on the crook of his husbands shoulder.  “Jar, can you tell the others we’re going to eat on our own today?” 

Steve rubbed his hands together softly.  “He’ll be okay Tony.”

 

~★~

Rob pushed a pile of forms onto the ground and directed Peter to sit up in the front seat.  He shuffled awkwardly before sitting down and looking out the window intently.

“You know we have to talk about it,” Rob said after he’d got his gammy engine started.  Peter remained silent.  “What happened was wrong and it must have brought back a lot of memories but like then, this wasn’t your fault.

“Look I know you like to blame yourself, but trust me you shouldn’t and honestly past social workers haven’t really done their best to make sure that you’ve been put with good people, but it’s important that you know I’ve done every background check known to man on these guys, they’re going to help you.  Peter, why did you run away?”

Peter turned around, tears were threatening to fall.  “Wade didn’t tell you?”

“He didn’t feel like it was his to tell.”

“I didn’t want to come back when they got fed up, or while I was waiting for them to make up their minds.  Sorry.”

Rob sighed.  “Look I’m not blaming you, you made a mistake but what happened this morning was unacceptable and Tony and Steve are going to arrest the men now.  We’ll talk more about this in our next session alright?  Until then you can call me, or talk to anyone in the tower, they’re all there to help.”

Peter looked back out the window.  The car rolled to a stop outside his old home.  He made a beeline for his bedroom, happy for once he wasn’t at school.  It meant most of the other kids were.  He made quick work of packing his scarce belongings into his rucksack and peeling old posters and photos off the wall.  The faster he got this over with the faster he could leave and never ever look back.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I'm going to aim for a chapter every few weeks because I understand how annoying no updates are.  
> Comment if you want me to do anything, I'm completely open for suggestions. Peter's going to go to school soon so if you want anything there go for it.

Tony sat in with Peter helping him unpack and arrange his room.  The kid had posters of bands the man had never heard off and scarcely anything else.  He had barely enough clothes to last him a week and all were worn and sizes too big and one pair of shoes that his feet were threatening to burst out of at any given moment.  Judging by the amount of tape and squinting it was taking for his glasses to be of any use to him, he hadn’t been lying about needing a new pair.  The decorating took minutes and the room still felt empty and impersonal.

Peter slid to the ground his head against his bedframe.

“Home again, home again jiggity jig,” he sighed.

Tony sat down next to him.  “This is the last one, I promise.”

Peter nodded half-heartedly.  He let out a long yawn.  “Sorry.”

“It’s okay?  Are you tired?  Do you want to go to bed for a while?” Tony rambled jumping up.

“Chill Tony, s’been a long morning,” he said forcing a grin, blocking the stupid, stupid, oh so god damn stupid, memories of earlier on in the day.  He stood up slowly.  “What are we doing today?” 

Tony relaxed.  “Steve and I thought we’d go shopping and get you some stuff and we can call into medical later if you decide you want to take something to help you sleep.”

“I’ll think about it.”

They left Peter’s barren room and went towards the lift door.  Peter felt nauseous just looking at it, but there was no way he was going to cause any more problems.  Tony was talking to him as he stepped into the metal tomb, probably about Steve because when wasn’t he?  The doors slid shut and all he could think about was that they’d never open again and how much bigger Tony was than him.  He fell back against the metal wall, eyes shut tightly.  Two hands came down heavily on his shoulders and he flinched away.  Tony pulled him close.  The boy collapsed into him, grabbing the sides of his jacket for dear life. 

The lift doors binged open.  Peter pulled away and ran out, straight into Steve.  He took a sharp step backwards and muttered an apology.  Steve looked over helplessly at his husband before telling Peter it was fine.  Tony shrugged and walked them over to a car.

The journey to the shopping center was quiet.  Steve and Tony had tried to make conversation numerous times and the radio just seemed forced and awkward.  When they arrived they both made short work of piling on baseball caps and sunglasses.   They walked from shop to shop, Peter insisting that he didn’t need anything and refusing to try anything on.  Steve pulled him to the side.

“Peter, I didn’t have money when I was growing up alright?  And if someone had offered me all of this then I’d have refused too, but hell Peter, you really need clothes.  You really need a lot of things and it’s our job to provide it.  Don’t tell me you don’t know how loaded Tony is.   You and I both know getting you some t-shirts and trousers won’t even scratch the surface of what he makes a month.  How about you swallow your pride and leave the worrying up to us.  Money’s not something you need to be concerned about anymore.”

Peter shrunk in on himself and nodded half-heartedly.  That had been the most “Captain America” voice he could imagine possible.  He wouldn’t win this argument.  They went back to Tony who had been picking out a _very_ large collection of tops and shoes.

They left the shop with two pairs of runners, seven shirts, two pairs of jeans, sweatpants, glasses and other bits that Peter didn’t understand why he needed.  He did have to admit owning underwear that weren’t falling apart was pretty great and knowing that he’d have a different outfit every day of the week was awesome.  He finished putting away his new things and grabbed his backpack.  He scouted the floor for places to hide his stuff, knowing someone would ask about the safe.  There was a carpet coating the floor and no loose panels visible.  He spotted an air vent out of the corner of his eye, directly underneath his desk.  He pulled out a quarter from his back pocket, stood on the table and unscrewed the covering.  He put in his safe, camera, photo album, and a few tins of beans and fruit just in case.  It was a habit he picked up in his first home.  It hadn’t been too bad, just neglectful.  The house parents had left the kids to fend for themselves a lot; the older boys had taught the four year old what type of food to store for when they ran out.  Reflecting on it they must have only been seven or eight, yet they looked after Peter better than the adults left in charge of him had for years afterwards.  They made sure he had food, drink and they prioritised him getting a bed every night.

Hopefully Tony and Steve would do the same.


End file.
